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Wednesday, 13 May 2009

Seven Letters: The Final Post

So this series of posts started because Tracey and I were reminiscing about the past, and, more specifically, our time in Paris. Tracey, who had read Jean-Luc's letters, had an idea: “We should create a web site with the most beautiful love letters and post Jean-Luc’s. And then people can submit their own letters to us and we’ll judge their worthiness. His letters will set the bar.”

I got back home that night and pulled the letters out of their box. After reading them, I decided Tracey’s idea would cheapen them. But I wanted to do something. I had to.

Twenty years late, I decided to write Jean-Luc back. Along with an email, I sent him a link to this blog – the ultimate seven post apology. Yes, this was planned since the beginning. (Thanks to Google, he was very easy to find. Seriously, how many French rocket scientists do you know?) My letter was brief, and not poetic like his, but I covered all the basics, namely why I never wrote him back.

I figured his response could go one of four ways:

a) He’d never write back, which would be the obvious answer

b) He’d be angry and I’d receive a scathing message

c) I would have sent my correspondence to an old email address

or

d) He’d actually write back.

And, of course, it crossed my mind that there was the possibility that he’d forgotten about me completely...

I held my breath.

On Friday morning, I hit the send button. I didn’t get a response on Saturday, Sunday, or Monday. But yesterday, the answer was written. Just like in Slumdog Millionaire his answer was d. And he wasn’t angry at all. He was happy and honored and flattered – and, naturally, a little flipped out.

I was stunned.

Still am.

Anyway, he’s been reading the posts right alongside you. And he’s accepted my apology with an open heart, doesn’t even blame me. I'd suffered the effects of the “Train Station Syndrome,” he said.

To the point: The past makes us who we are. You can’t live your life with regret, and you have to open your heart and take risks. Funny, how it just takes some of us longer to discover this.

NOTE: Prior to finding my passion for writing two years ago, I never wrote anything that would convey my emotions, my heart, my soul. Not even a letter. So it should come as no surprise that I write about mutant kids looking for love and acceptance, or a troubled girl whose inner goddess is unleashed – among other recurring themes.